One Week
by autobotgirl12328
Summary: (Movie) I came online and everything else happened quickly after. I escaped Drek, met Ratchet, saved the Galactic Rangers, joined the Galactic Rangers, fought Victor, brought back Ratchet, fought Captain Quark, defeated Dr. Nefarious, destroyed the Deplanetizer and saved the galaxy. All in the span of roughly a week.
1. I

I

The first thing I remember was a download of knowledge. It was vastly expansive, though it specified the Galactic Rangers. Offensive, defensive, stratagems, history of each ranger and schematics for their base of operations (Galaxy: Solana. Planet: Kerwan. City: Aleero City. Building: The Hall of Heroes). Everything else though, that is what fascinated me. There was so much in the world that I could hardly focus on the task I had been designed for. Purpose, knowledge, exploration, individuality. So much thought and so little time in which to express it.

The conveyer belt beneath me pushed forward just as I opened my eyes. For a moment, everything seemed to go away and then resent program tried to take control. It didn't last, hardly had time to take hold to be honest. I rubbed my eyes and the world seemed a little clearer. Mediocre building facility made from scraps and barely functioning. The storm outside was loud and one of the first things I could actually hear. I could see everything laid out in front of me. The end of the conveyer belt, an army of warbots, and a weapons distributor directly in front of me. It seemed fitting that the first words I ever uttered were "oh my…"

The warbots in front me repeated the same phrase once they reached the distributor "destroy Galactic Rangers." They were then handed a weapon. As I said before, the thought of destroying anything was really beyond my interest. The file on the Galactic Rangers was extensive though. I understood they were protectors, which is why I couldn't understand why I was supposed to assist in 'destroying' them. Regardless, the weapons they were distributing were larger than me and would hardly be much use in my hands. The conveyer moved forward once more and it was my turn.

"State your prime…"

The machine peered around, assuming it had made a mistake. It was interesting to watch its confusion. A machine designed to simply hand out weapons also had the capability to express confusion the same way I was. I watched him a moment more before I hummed a little in thought. It quickly pointed down at me. Lacking experience in the matter of meeting new people, I simply uttered a hello and waited for a response. Perhaps that was my first mistake.

It bent lower, shining a light onto me. I shielded my eyes from the initial beam. Trying to reopen them and reestablish myself, the machine let out a loud voice. Defect detected. An alarm began going off. Suddenly everything felt very big and I was very small. The machine continued howling. Immediate destruction. I didn't need any knowledge to know that was bad. It began counting down. Thoughts blurred. Chances of reaching an agreement were low. Chances of escaping, however, were closer to my favor. So, I leapt off the conveyer belt and left the life that I was originally designed for.

Far away voices murmured in the background as I ran. My legs were new but they knew to run. I noticed the slight noise I created with each step on the metal floor. I dared to look back only after I heard a loud bang. I wish I hadn't. A large machine, colored a reddish-orange from rust starred at me with burning yellow eyes. I whimpered a no. At that moment, I experienced fear for the first time. I stumbled but managed to refocus and continue forward without falling.

"I'm coming for you, defect!"

The other bots voice was piercing, shouting over the mechanics on the rest of the compound. I saw a chute, no doubt for other defective products such as myself. The lid wasn't heavy, though it proved somewhat difficulty with my new arms. I glanced at the approaching mech and then I jumped. The lid slammed behind me. I slid down, colliding with other scraps before finally coming out at the end. I am embarrassed to say I did scream a little on the way down.

I searched my database for the layout of the factory. I was lucky it was part of the download from the start. The escape pods weren't far and I was certain I could make it with enough time before the other robot caught up to me. It was at this time that I realized I had an old warbot's helm on. I could not see properly so I removed it. Getting to my feet, I began running once again.

I could see the escape shuttles. I knew the codes. It was easy to punch them in and open the cockpit. I glanced back, hearing the booming footsteps. I climbed up, leaping into the leaned back seat. These were obviously not designed for someone of my stature. Crawling up, I activated takeoff. The doors to the main factory opened with a loud cry of my name: defect! I glanced back but tried not to let it get to me. I just wished that the takeoff would actually takeoff.

At last, an explosion of smoke followed by a rapid acceleration. I felt like I had made it. Then, it occurred to me that I had no clue what I was doing. I had escaped but from what and to where? My program suggested the Galactic Rangers. I knew what Drek was planning, and I knew I had to stop it. The shuttle lurched, rocking me about the cabin. I figured it was a normal part of leaving the atmosphere of that planet. I activated the computer once more.

"Computer, set coordinates for the Galactic Ranger home back."

"Destination set."

A moment of relief.

"We will never make it, but, hey, what are you gonna do?"

Followed by panic.

"Oh, dear…"


	2. II

II

I remember colliding with the atmosphere. After that, the fire that had started at the right engine was beginning to spread. No matter what I did I could not find a solution. The shuttle was coming in at the wrong angle, engulfing the ship in flames. I wasn't used to such heat. Alarms again. The creaks and moans of the pod trying to stay whole. I gripped the chair, though it provided little comfort. Unable to see out of the windshield, I wasn't prepared for the collision with the ground. The sudden stop must've knocked me unconscious. Luckily, my reboot system works fast.

I jolted up, unknowingly banging against the individual who had pulled me to safety. My priority though was warning the Galactic Rangers. I had no time for civilians. I leapt to my feet. One of joints had apparently ruptured, making it hard to stand and nearly impossible to walk. Nonetheless, I was determined to make it my destination. I had a mission after all, and it was the only thing I could think of to be my new prime objective.

"I must get to Aleero City!" I quickly explained to the civilian.

I searched around. The nearest spaceport wasn't far, a few klicks at least. One step forward however proved too much. I fell. I tried to set myself back up. I had to get to Aleero City. I had to warn them. I had to.

"They are in danger."

I wasn't sure why I was speaking to him, but it did offer some comfort to speak to someone who wasn't attempting to destroy me.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hey, who's in danger?" he sputtered, racing around to me.

"An army is coming. I must warn them!"

I assumed this was specific enough.

"Hang on, slow down. You've been in a crash."

The crash itself seemed like a blur of fire and sounds. The fact that I had been within that fire and noise had been removed from thought, no doubt to preserve a sense of purpose and motivation as opposed to wallowing in the destruction and accident. Though I had nothing really to do with the fact that the ship crashed. I blame the misfire on the machine that was chasing me prior.

The civilian kneeled down beside me. He rested one hand on his knee, looked me in the eye. I saved an image file for future logging. Tan shirt, blue pants, pointed ears, animal like nose, tail, five fingers, average speech patterns. Logged. Doing a quick search, though, I could not find a match for his species. Something to look closer at later.

"What do you say we get you back to my garage?" He moved his hands as he spoke. "I'll run a diagnostic and have you fixed up in no time."

He finished with a smile, something I had logged in my database but had yet to see first hand. It was odd, meeting someone for the first time and having them attempt to help me. I was not sure how to respond initially. Another quick search of my database, I found an appropriate response.

"Thank you. I appreciate the assistance."

His response was quick.

"It's not problem. So what do I call you?"

Name. Names are important. So far, I had only been called defect. Of course I have my full designation. Perhaps that is the best I have for a name so far. Recovering the file, I tried to walk again.

"I suppose my proper designation is Warbot Defect B5429…"

I fell a second time. How embarrassing. The civilian rushed over, arms cradled around me. He sat me back up, smiling again. I could not understand why he was smiling, then again I had just fallen over again and some might consider that humor.

"Maybe I'll just call you Clank."

Clank? I suppose that was based off the sound I was creating as I walked. It seems easier to say than my full designation. I accepted it, for the moment.

"My name's Ratchet."

He held out his hand. I didn't know how to respond. When I failed to respond, he looked between his hand and me. He moved forward, grabbing my hand and attaching it to his outstretched one. He then proceeded to move them both up and down repeatedly.

"Up and down…" he murmured.

I mimicked the movement.

"Yeah, there you go. You're a natural."

Pleased with my new knowledge, I continued.

"Okay, that's enough."

But how was I supposed to disengage from this interaction?

"Or just keep shaking. That's cool, too."

He seemed reluctant but kept smiling. I liked the smile. It felt right, better than anything else thus far in my short existence. Eventually, though, he did let go of my hand and stand up. He motioned toward his motor scooter that happened to be close by. I had never ridden one. To be far, I had only ridden one thing and it did not end well.

"Don't worry. I know how to drive this thing," Ratchet grinned, sitting on the vehicle. "Come on!"

Coming up to its side, we both saw a problem with this. I was far too short to simply jump on in the similar fashion as Ratchet. With my leg lacking in full rotation, I could not entirely manage to get up. Ratchet grabbed me around the waist and set me down in front of him.

"Don't want you falling off," he explained.

It was a reasonable thought.

He revved the engine and the thing sped off faster than I was prepared for. I added this to my file on Ratchet: Reckless. All the while, regardless of how tightly I held on to the seat or handles, Ratchet smiled. Nothing else mattered to him it seemed. In that moment, it was just him, with me in tow. He seemed driven. I wanted to feel like that.


	3. III

III

Ratchet's 'garage' was spacious, to say the least. A ship was placed near the entrance, though it wasn't much to look at. Large windows near the ceiling streamed in evening light. The overhead lights were barely lit. A few offices and living areas were enclosed off to the right and left. It was – oh what's the word – cozy. Ratchet pointed up toward a loft, saying something about his workshop. Before I could properly respond, he had grabbed me again and zipped up there with a contraption of his own making. Placed upon the workbench, Ratchet got to work.

My joint was not too heavily, and Ratchet proved surprisingly fast. Though his tools were mediocre, he worked with skill I had not suspected from him. The room itself was small, barely lit aside from the workbench, though I suspect the main source of light care from the window during the day. The bed came down I assumed as it was currently folded into the wall. A few scattered pieces of furniture made up the rest of the room. The walls were entirely covered in what appeared to be photos.

"Almost got it," he hummed, squinting his eyes are he twisted the screwdriver one last turn. "And…there! How do you feel?"

I bent my leg, keeping an eye on the joint as it bent. No sound, no problem in movement, unhindered reflex. All appeared as it should.

"Fully operational."

Ratchet set the screwdriver in the toolbox, grinning back at me while saying "sweet."

I did not quite understand what that had to do with the situation but it seemed to have a good context. His smile faded as he turned back around to face me.

"So, what are you doing all the way out here in the sticks?"

I did not understand what the phrase 'in the sticks' meant but I assumed it was in reference to our location. He put his hands on his hips, watching me. It was odd having a person assist me in such a way, ask how I was operating, and then requested why I was here. It was comforting. So I spoke honestly.

"I am on a mission of galactic importance."

"Galactic importance?" he repeated the phrase with a slight change of tone. It was followed by a chuckle. "Okay. Oh, boy. You must have ruptured your CPU. How many fingers am I holding up?"

I did not understand why he took such joy in that phrase nor its importance. He was still smiling though, so it seemed to still be in good spirits. I indulged him.

Carefully counting his fingers just to be certain, I responded "Uh…Two. But I fail to see the relevance of the question."

Ratchet no longer seemed interested in the conversation. He took up his toolbox and began walking away. I didn't understand what was happening. I was telling him what was to come and yet he was not responding the way I expected, the way he should.

"Chairman Drek has built an army of warbots," I called after. I stood up, trying to stress my point. "They're going to assassinate the Galactic Rangers tomorrow."

His tail stopped swishing as he stood up suddenly. I could hear the grin in his voice as he spoke again.

"Oh! That kind of galactic importance!"

He spun around, clapping his hands together. He looked directly at me as I spoke, smiling widely.

"Well, why didn't you say so? I can totally help!"

As helpful as Ratchet has been, I did not want to endanger his life. He had been too kind for me to return it with leading him into jeopardy. It seemed wrong. The emotion in his eyes was hard to ignore. Such excitement. I could not risk it.

"Oh, I could not ask a civilian to get involved in something so dangerous."

I did not want to get him involved.

"Well…no, I'm not just a civilian. The Rangers are actually my…friends!"

He motioned toward the pictures framing his walls. There were a good amount of them.

"Why do you think I have so many pictures of them?"

I could not question the fact that he did possess a good amount of pictures of them but something was still off. For example, they seemed oddly exaggerated. There was no way they good be standing atop a planet as they were in one of them. The lighting was nice in some of them, though, really highlighting their features. I did notice that Ratchet was absent from every picture apart from the warn out one beneath the main collection containing the Galactic Rangers.

"But why are you not in any of them?"

He perked at the question, glancing at the pictures. He quickly sprung back, beaming at me and waving his arms.

"Well, someone had to take the picture, right?"

That…seemed reasonable.

"I mean, come on. I even have a ship."

He motioned to the edge of the loft, pointing down at the ship we had passed on the way in. Dimly lit from underneath, it looked quite formidable…until the front fell off. And the left engine. Followed swiftly by smoke.

"It…disassembles so it can infiltrate enemy strongholds."

He laughed.

"So…what do you say?"

I looked up at him. He was gazing down at me, still grinning. I was growing interested in his endless grin. I was curious as to what fueled it. He was caring, supportive, understanding, honest, skilled…notes I added to his file. I also added the ship, location, and repair time for future studies.

"I do not see why not."

Ratchet cheered, grabbing me once again and sliding down. I was growing used to being cared in such a fashion, though I did not enjoy it. Curse my short stature. He opened the cockpit, setting me inside. He dashed around the garage a second, quickly reattaching the left engine and the front plate. He also grabbed what appeared to be a large wrench, setting it in the back.

"What is that?"

"Oh, that's my…uh, OmniWrench. Something I've been working on," he explained. "In case we get into any trouble."

Trouble was the one thing I was trying to avoid. I'm not sure I was built for it.


	4. IV

IV

It is safe to say the ride to Aleero City was a rather quiet one. What little conversation we had was started by Ratchet. He asked questions or tried to talk about interests, which I logged. He seemed interested in a lot of mechanical interactions, such as inventing, weapons, ships, upgrades, etc. He also spoke of others, primarily Grim and Quark. He expressed fondness of both. It was curious though. Apart from the knowledge I was beginning to store on Ratchet, I could not find any other basis to start from, such as species and planet of origin (other than Veldin).

I continued to watch Ratchet, trying to find a match. After a while, I think he noticed. His pleasant grin that I was growing accustomed to faded, followed by a worried look in his eyes. He moved around to pilot but constantly looked over at me. It was beginning to aggravate me that I could not find a match in species. That can be very helpful in further determining someone's personality flaws and quirks. For example, if his species were known for its sullen expression, than Ratchet would be very unique. If it were the other way around, he would be average.

Eventually, we were within sight of the planet. The surface was blue, clouded but overall serene. Our little ship cluttered and creaked with each minor turn. Ratchet was growing more and more uncomfortable. I was growing more irritated by my lack of matches. I grumbled in frustration.

"What?" he finally gasped

"Apologies. I have not been able to locate your species in my database."

His smile came back.

"I get that a lot. There aren't many of us left. Not in this galaxy, anyway."

Endangered Species. Noted. I was hoping he would give me more however.

"I'm a Lombax."

He spoke causally, leaning back in his chair. Rechecking my database, I still was unable to find the term Lombax.

"A Lombax?"

I logged the new information.

"Fascinating."

"Yeah. I crashed on Veldin when I was just a baby."

I figured this was going to be important, keeping Ratchet's file open to continue logging.

"No note, no message, no name…"

He trailed off, looking out the window. He seemed upset by that last statement. Without warning he perked again, chuckling.

"Kinda like you."

He looked at me. It felt nice, having a similar experience to another being, especially one as kind spirited as Ratchet. I kept this moment, video and audio, in a personal file for future moments as well as a copy in Ratchet's file. I wonder if Ratchet would keep this in mind as well.

 _Approaching destination_

With the computers input, Ratchet and I turned back to face outward. The skyline was forming with buildings towering in a foggy landscape. The layer of clouds only separated the difference between sky and ground. I logged the image in a file labeled "Aleero City."

"Whoa!" Ratchet perked, leaning forward. "Aleero City."

I did not understand his excitement or his unnecessary stating of the destination, but I indulged him.

"Yes, it certainly is."

He held the steering, dropping us drastically downward. We shifted through the cloud layer, finding ourselves above the Hall of Heroes. The silence shattered with the blizzard of gunfire. Ratchet leaned forward, mouth open as if to speak and eyes widened. He let out a deep breath.

"No way!"

A large war ship orbited above, watching the destruction the series of drones were causing. The red warbots fought against the blue Ranger bots. The main Galactic Rangers stood in the center of the square, doing their best to hold ground. Lights flashed across the battlefield, letting out a hiss and spark. This was what I was originally built for. This was what I was supposed to do. It was, as I had feared.

"It is the invasion. We are too late."

Ratchet orbited the ship so we continually circled the fighting. I pressed up against the window, feeling slightly responsible for what was occurring. If I had made it in time…If I had down something…

"Awesome!"

Somehow, this mess excited Ratchet. I was uncertain of his reason but found that Ratchet's moods are typically natural and reliable. A large explosion happened on the bridge. We continued to circle around.

"I got these guys."

Ratchet pushed on the controls, veering us off our course. He rushed us toward the main warship. Smirking more than usual, he clicked the buttons on the steering wheel. A compartment opened, releasing a rocket into the air. It launched straight forward for a while until it finally pulled away and returned toward the main fight. It collided with a statue. The head of the statue fell off. Someone screamed.

"Oops! I must've forgotten to install the targeting software."

Ratchet glanced at me sheepishly.

"Here, take the controls for a sec."

Wait…what?

He ducked down quickly, compacting himself under the main steering console. All I could make out was his tail, which swished happily back and forth as if nothing were wrong.

"Oh…I…um…"

I did not know how to drive. I did not even know how to start to drive. I slipped into the pilot's seat, carefully grabbing the controls. It seemed so big in my hands. I tried my best to keep us level and straight but the buildings were not filed in a pattern, mostly coming up wherever is was convent, which made it harder to steer and veer out of the way. I hit one of them.

"Ow! Hey! What's going on up there!?"

"Well, unfortunately my piloting skills are, shall we say, slightly underdeveloped."

I could hardly see over the dash.

"Yeah, I think we can definitely agree on that."

I felt slightly hurt by that statement, though it was true.

I was neither flying level nor straight. At some point, I think I did a spin. Neither Ratchet nor I enjoyed it. We were beginning to pick up speed it felt. I hit someone else, luckily not hard enough to send us both crashing. I managed to avoid a few other buildings though.

"Ratchet, we are clearly not prepared for this. We should have contacted the Rangers to warn them of the attack."

I think I was getting better at this.

Ratchet sat back up, taking my seat in the cockpit. He laughed, slapping his knee. I did not understand but refused to look at him, as I preferred to keep my eyes on the sky ahead.

"Yeah, like they'd know who we are."

I looked at him carefully.

"But you said they were your friends."

His eyes got wide again. Another sheepish smile.

"Whaaaaaaat?"

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I think you're quoting me out of context."

I realized at that moment that Ratchet had told me my first lie.

I stood up, keeping one hand on the steering wheel, while I used the other to activate my speaker. I stared at him as it repeated verbatim what he had said to me. He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Do you record everything I say?"

I repeated the phrase.

He leaned in, glaring at me. I wanted to yell at him but I was not completely sure what to actually say. Luckily, at that moment, we glanced back at the windshield and found ourselves heading straight for the back of a billboard. I tried to pull back on the steering wheel while Ratchet braced the dash. We both screamed.

I lost control as we crashed through. We were free falling, spiraling out of control. We rolled around the cockpit, colliding from door to ceiling. Lucky for us, we didn't collide with each other. I was no doubt made of studier material than Ratchet.

"We're going down!"

Ratchet screamed over both of us. I couldn't tell if we were going down, up, or sideways but apparently he could. That was impressive. Or was he lying again? Or joking? Humor is something I'm trying to pick up. Ratchet mentioned that on the way here.

"Your sense…of direction…is…impeccable."

We were thrown back in the seats, giving Ratchet enough time to reach out and grab the wheel. He anchored his feet on the ground, gripped the lever for the thrusters and pushed forward. The ship came to steady stop, only slightly abrupt. While Ratchet maintained his seated position, I was not as lucky, still being pressed against the windshield. We hovered above a child. He stared in awe of us as Ratchet gave him a wink and a salute. He then put us in reverse and flew us back to the Hall.

We could not have missed much in the few moments we were gone.


	5. V

V

A lot. Apparently, we missed a lot. The Galactic Rangers had been pushed nearly all the way back, guarding themselves with the remains of Warbots and Ranger bots. It looked somewhat hopeless, with the rate of success dwindling. Ratchet, however, looked at this fight with such determination, narrowed eyes and slight tick on his lip. Based on his optimism, perhaps we stood a chance of helping in some capacity. Thinking it over, there must have been something we could do.

I was supposed to be down there. I was supposed to be just like those other Warbots. Given the same information, same data, same metal…metal. Metal! All the Warbots were constructed of the same raritanium as I was. Checking Ratchet's weapons package, I was lucky to find a mag-booster. Using that, the metal composition…yes, this might work.

"Ratchet, I believe I may have an idea."

He looked at me puzzled.

"Your weapon package includes a mag-booster. I am rewriting the software to isolate the raritanium alloy used to manufacture us."

Us. Us seemed like an ugly word, to compare myself to those mindless drones down there. Even as a defect, I felt as though I was in a better place. I was better off assisting the Rangers than destroying them anyway. Nonetheless, I could not forget that I came from the same factory, built for the same purpose, as those down there.

"Great idea, Clank!"

Ratchet pulled me out of thought. I refocused on editing the program. He continued to pilot us around the fight, keeping us at a relatively close range so as to strike when ready. Narrowing down the precise alloy was not hard anyway. However, it proved too long for Ratchet's taste as he kept muttering "come on" while looked over at my console. It was done though.

"Executing command and…engage mag-booster."

Determined and narrowed eyed, Ratchet flipped the switch. The mag-booster schematics were projected on the dash. Ratchet and I watched it, waiting for confirmation that this plan actually worked as intended.

"Is it working?"

Ratchet's sense of timing was impeccable.

A sudden force pulled me to the ceiling. It was as if gravity was working against me. The mag-booster was working well. I had simply forgotten that I was part of this equation. Completely stuck, I glanced down at Ratchet. He winced for me.

"I do believe it is."

He began to fly the ship in low. It shuddered, working hard to deal with the mass of metal it was trying to attract. Before long, the entire army was trailing us.

"Yeah!" Ratchet cheered, wiggling in his seat.

"Oh, yes."

Somehow my exclamation did not pack as much excitement.

Ratchet's smile was open now, teeth shown. He could hardly contain himself, bouncing in his chair as he steered upward. I suppose his movement was enough for the both of us. There was still the matter of the warbots behind us.

"There are 300 heavily armed warbots gaining on us!"

"I know! Isn't it great?"

Excitement again. Ratchet's file was growing complicated.

He narrowed his eyes, shoulders hunched, hands tightly gripping the wheel, and his voice lowered. He snarled, trying hard not to smile.

"Get ready to return to sender!"

Noted.

"Terminating mag-booster on my mark!"

Now I think he had forgotten I was there. He seemed to be enjoying himself, though.

"Three…two…one…mark!"

He flipped the switch back. The mag-booster shut down, releasing me from the ceiling quite forcefully. The other warbots, however, were not as lucky as I. Ratchet pulled up quickly, allowing the following warbots to collide with the mother ship. The explosion was spectacular, rupturing and spreading across the sky. Smoke clouded our vision as I got back into my seat.

"Can't see…"

Ratchet peered through the smoke, hoping to find clear skies. My instruments read that we were steady. The smoke would clear soon. The goal was trying not to hit any of the remaining flaming warbots or ship parts that were raining down. Ratchet pushed the thrusters, launching us out of the cloud. I could hear faint cheers, but they were easily masked by the cheers of Ratchet.

"That was exciting."

"C'mon, let's land...to you know…make sure everyone's okay."

I believe this was another lie.

Ratchet landed us gently. The cockpit opened, allowing the voices of a small crowd to wash over us. I turned to Ratchet, watching him blush and stutter to himself. I was not as taken back by the adoration as he was, but I was glad that he was enjoying himself. He did help save lives after all.

A person dressed in green sprang up between the crowd and us.

"All right, everyone, let's give these heroes some breathing room. I'm happy to field all questions on their behalf."

Ratchet seemed puzzled again, but watched man in green carefully. The crowd hushed. A few cameramen emerged along with people with microphones. Ratchet blushed again, looking around at the throng of people.

"Captain Qwark! Juanita Alvaro, _Holovid Nightly_."

Qwark. That was the name Ratchet spoke of on the way here. I suppose that was the name of the man in green. That would explain Ratchet's current stuttering emotion as he watched the man motion toward the newswoman.

"The Blarg have been underground for over 50 years. Could their return be linked to the destroyed planets?"

Yes.

"I think that's being a little alarmist, don't you, Juanita?"

That was incorrect. Coming for Drek's factory and experiencing what I have thus far, there is no doubt the two are connected. Then again, perhaps I was the only one who knew that.

"Begging your pardon, Captain, but Drek is responsible and his attack today proves that he is only getting started."

I learned some of those dramatics from Ratchet. I could see him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed truly interested in what I had to say. This was the first time I talked about Drek. The crowd gasped, looking between each other. Perhaps, this was a bad time to bring this up.

"Now, now! We must all stay calm. Everything is under control."

The crowd was swiftly responsive. The reporters did not seem as mollified.

"Captain Qwark! Dallas Wannamaker here. Does that mean you'll be asking these two heroes to join the Rangers?"

Heroes? Is that what we were now? I suppose we were an awful lot of help but heroes seemed to pushing it. The crowd gasped, once again murmuring between each other as if this was the most important news of the century. Ratchet was smiling. Perhaps this was important.

"Say what now?"

Qwark seemed as generally surprised by the question as I was. A quick glance as Ratchet. He was beaming again. This was a good thing. I turned back to Qwark. He seemed to be having a hard time deciding. I could not understand why, after all we had been incredibly helpful is saving the city. He turned around, locking eyes with Ratchet and gasped. Ratchet laughed lightly, waving. Perhaps the two have met before. Qwark winced, slowly turning back to the crowd.

"I don't…see why not."

This was the beginning on my file on Qwark.

The crowd cheered. Ratchet bounced up and down, waving his hands in the air like the crowd. Qwark spun around, grabbing us both and throwing us into the air. He caught us with either hand. Ratchet kept his hands up, laughing and cheering. He turned to me, smiling and offered two thumbs up. The news reporters continued their broadcast.

"You heard it here, folks! The search for a new Galactic Ranger is over! Aleero City will never forget the day it was saved by a…a…cat thingy."

Lombax. Not cat. Lombax.


	6. VI

VI

Ratchet was thrilled. Walking into the Hall of Heroes alongside Brax, Ratchet could hardly contain himself. His step was fast paced, grin stretched across his face. I managed to keep up, though my short stature forced me to pick up my pace as compared to the casual step of Brax and the overwhelmed Ratchet.

Brax wasn't much like Ratchet at all. His step, personality, tone, vocabulary, etc. they were all distinctly different. Brutish, simple vocabulary, and a simple thought process. At least Ratchet had mechanical skills, whereas Brax seemed knowledgeable only in physical means. Overall, I did not understand why Ratchet was so taken back by this individual.

"Our training program usually lasts a full year, but we've been cleared to attack Drek Industries in three days."

I'm not sure Ratchet was listening. He was taking in the surroundings. The Galactic Rangers seemed fond of their logo as it was plastered everywhere. High ceilings, wide halls, a rather dull color scheme with bright hints of blue. I stand corrected, a lot of blue.

"That means you too are getting the accelerated course."

Ratchet leaned pass Brax, peering at me.

"We're going to be trained by Brax Lectrus? The guy's a legend!"

He waved his arms around, displaying his excitement. I'm not sure I understood it. I was curious as to what the 'training' would include. Ratchet would enjoy the physical labor training but I am not sure I was up for that kind of course. Then again, I am not sure my attendance was noticed here.

"I do not suppose you offer introductory courses in aviation?"

"No offense, little guy…"

I was looking at Brax, but I could hear Ratchet cheering in the background. Perhaps, I was merely distracted by the large gun that Brax was waving around. He was acting as if it was purely an extension of his being.

"…but I don't think flying's really your thing."

He pointed the gun directly in my face. I jumped slightly.

"Captain Qwark suggested we put you in a position a little less…"

I tried to move the gun away.

"Dangerous?"

He clicked at me, winking, but pointed the gun even closer to be. I leapt back, exclaiming.

Brax continued leading us down the hall, explaining some of the tests and practices we would participate in as well as the individual I would be working with. She sounded interesting and more up to my speed as opposed to Brax. Surprisingly, he led us to a small door, entering a darkened room light mostly by several, large screens. Someone stood in the center, wearing a headset and wielding a controller.

"Hey, Elaris!"

File start: Elaris.

She spun around, smiling and disengaging from her controller.

"Hi, Brax! IS that my new assistant?"

She motioned to me. I assumed I was the new assistant.

"Greetings. Your office is most, uh…"

I looked around. It was small, and as I previously stated, hardly lit. Large pipes and several boxes took up most of the room. There was also a collection of cleaning products.

Curtsy, though.

"Impressive."

She did not believe it, scoffing at me with narrowed eyes.

"Elaris here is in charge of developing our gear and providing tactical support."

This was definitely more my speed.

"Usually it's the former. The Rangers are the shoot-first-think-later type."

She mimicked guns with her fingers. Neither Ratchet nor Brax seemed to be listening to her. She laughed then perked up.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like that."

Brax was spinning his gun.

"Like what now?"

Of course he wasn't listening.

Elaris kneeled down in front of him. Her eyes were bright, personality warm. She reminded me of Ratchet when I first interacted with him. Kind, helpful, etc. I added this to her file, marking it with a same priority as Ratchet's. Another smile.

"Come on. I'll show you around."

I am fairly certain that I had already seen everything there is to see in this room.

"Let's go, Cadet. Time to make you Ranger."

I spun around. Brax was leaving. Ratchet was watching him, moving his feet to follow.

"So this is the…"

Elaris was talking. I was not listening. Ratchet was leaving. The first good person I had interacted with, the one individual I had been within the short time I had been online was leaving. I did not realize that I had grown attached to him. He ducked back in, waving.

"I'll see you in a bit!"

I offered a tiny wave, but I knew he was gone. The door shut. He was gone.

"We're going to have so much fun!"

Elaris was happy. A similar happy to Ratchet. I think for the first time, she had someone to talk to who had the same level of experience and knowledge as her. We were equals. She enjoyed it. I suppose I did too. She may not be Ratchet but she was someone who I did not have to explain every little thing too.


	7. VII

VII

It was getting late and Elaris had gone to bed, leaving me to wander. I did not want to stay in the 'lab' and accidently mess with something I was not supposed to. A majority of the halls seemed identical, so I downloaded a map from the tourist website. It did make it easier to move about, though a few security guards tried to stop me. It took some convincing to prevent my forcible removal. Eventually, it grew to tiresome, and I moved to return to Elaris' office.

The last 48 hours had been difficult, to say the least. I could not disregard the fact of how close we were to losing everything. How easy it would have been for everything to fall apart. I single misstep. Considering all the probabilities, it was incredibly unlikely that even with Ratchet's assistance they would save the Galactic Rangers, survive the magnetic warbots, and be reluctantly recruited into Galactic Rangers as well. It was entirely unlikely and near impossible and yet they has successfully pulled it off.

"Clank! Clank!"

I turned around to spot Ratchet chasing after me. He was dressed in a new suit, deep blue with orange highlights and naturally the Galactic Ranger logo on the chest. He looked as though he had had a great day. He slid into position beside me, placing hands on his hip.

"How was your day?"

"Fine."

Curtsey. I did not want Ratchet to worry about me, after all he seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Man, you shoulda seen me, Clank! I worked will some of the coolest weapons today!"

Weapons. Great. Ratchet and I could barely drive and now he is being given weapons. I am sure that he will manage though. Hopefully.

"Where ya heading?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm heading to my room. Did they give you one?"

"No. I do not require one."

"Nonsense. C'mon, you can bunk with me…"

He led the way, walking down the hall and checking every now and then to make sure I was still following. He got lost once or twice. I knew the way to the dormitories, but he seemed to be appreciating just wandering and being in charge. Ratchet continued to talk about his day, stating each weapon he practiced with.

Combuster – short to medium range. Harsh Kickback.

Alpha Disruptor – stream of plasma. Multiple Targets.

Negotiator – long range. High impact rockets. Heavy Armor. Harsh Kickback. Fragile trigger.

Buzz Blades – Small saws that launch. Continually move toward a target.

Warmonger – Large rocket launcher. Heat Seeking.

Spiral of Death – Large Saw blade

Fusion Grenade – Highly volatile.

Ratchet spoke fondly of each but also described how he had difficulty operating them. I understood the struggle of adapting to new devices and experiences. Everything was new to me. My internal database was very helpful of occasion, which I try to keep updated.

Eventually, we reached the dorm area. Ratchet's room was marked as 1775 with a newly taped nametag on the door. It looked like it was barely holding onto the surface. Ratchet tapped in a code, unlocking the door. He motioned for me to enter first, closing the door behind us.

The lights turned on upon entrance, revealing the rather small room consisting mostly of a bed, desk, dresser and couch. There was a lamp as well. It lit the corner of the room that contained the desk. Ratchet flopped onto the bed, bouncing around until he was lying on his back again. He laughed to himself.

"Isn't this cool, Clank. We're Galactic Rangers!"

I was not sure how much of a Galactic Ranger I was at this point but I indulged him.

"Indeed."

He sat up.

"What'd you do today?"

"Elaris showed me around her office as well as some information regarding Drek and the destroyed planets."

"Bet that was pretty cool."

He yawned, lying back down. I am not sure he meant what he said.

"Man, today was crazy. We newly crashed, defeated an army of warbots, joined the Galactic Rangers, trained a little bit..."

"I does sound exciting."

Ratchet yawned again.

"Hey, Clank."

"Yes, Ratchet?"

He sat up, staring directly as me.

"You know, none of this woulda happened if it weren't for you."

That had not occurred to me. Even if I was not able to make it to Aleero City as planned, Ratchet helped me complete my mission, and we did save the Rangers. If I had not encountered Ratchet and never made it to Aleero City, the Galactic Rangers might not have made it and Drek would have gotten away with his plans. Now, we have a fighting chance. Now, Ratchet is fighting with me.

"I had not considered it."

"You're a real hero, Clank," he grinned, laying back down. "I'm goin' to bed now. Night, Clank."

"Good night, Ratchet."

It did not take long for Ratchet to lose consciousness and begin snoring. He shuffled around, tucking himself in and out of the blanket provided. I was not sure what I was supposed to do. I was feeling tired though. A little recharge would not hurt. I placed myself on the couch, watching Ratchet continue to move about his bed without actually waking up. I shut my eyes. This was nice.


End file.
